


run away and start again

by thatemofangirl



Series: AUgust 2020 [24]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: AU-gust 2020, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Circus, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Captivity, Circus, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Heavy Angst, Hope, Hostage Situations, Hurt Harley Keener, Hurt Peter Parker, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Manipulative Quentin Beck, Mutation, Past Child Abuse, Peter Parker Acts Like a Spider, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Physical Abuse, Protective Harley Keener, Psychological Trauma, Rescue, Sad Peter Parker, Scared Peter Parker, Threats of Violence, Trust Issues, Villain Quentin Beck, freakshow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26097697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatemofangirl/pseuds/thatemofangirl
Summary: Harley immediately knew what he saw was wrong. Filled with determination, he knew exactly what he was going to do: break Peter out and set him free.
Relationships: Harley Keener & Harley Keener's Sister, Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Quentin Beck & Peter Parker
Series: AUgust 2020 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858408
Comments: 1
Kudos: 63





	run away and start again

**Author's Note:**

> Day 25: Circus AU
> 
> Just when I thought I could write a oneshot, my brain comes up with this depressing thing. 
> 
> Oh yeah. Warning: prepare yourselves. This is sad. And a smidge hopeful. But mainly sad. At least until I add more...whenever that may be.
> 
> And just to say it, I’m absolutely terrified of spiders (I know, ironic, right?) so I apologize if description is a little lacking. Okay. That’s enough spoilers.

Harley knew that humans could be cruel. That they could manipulate others to doing what they wanted. That they could emotionally and physically and mentally abuse people. He knew they could hurt others just to feel more powerful.

Luckily, he had never been on the recieving end of such cruelty, and he knew for sure he would never be the person to do the hurting. Not after what he's been through his entire life, and especially not now. Not after what he had seen.

But the day he saw a person—a _boy_ —who was suffering through every single form of cruelty known to the world, Harley felt like someone had stabbed him through the heart. He had never witnessed such blatant abuse. While everyone around him laughed and cheered, Harley was horrified.

It was supposed to be a fun day at Beck's Wondrous Circus. Harley's sister, Abigail, had won free tickets for coming in first place in her school's poetry competition. She had only won two though. Harley tried to convince his mother to take her, but she insisted that he go and have a good time instead.

And he did, up until the Freakshow Showcase.

Harley and Abby had eaten cotton candy and ice cream. They went on rides and played games and won prizes. Not even halfway through their day at the circus, Abby was carrying around a giant pink teddy bear almost double her size. They had seen the most usual things at a circus. Parading animals, painting elephants, acrobats and other gymnasts, sword swallowers, fireblowers and the clowns that made obscure balloon animals.

Harley couldn't say he had a lot of fun often. He was bullied at school and he worked a part time job on weekends to help his single mother with the bills. But as he stuck by his sister's side, seeing attraction after attraction and participating in small events, he had a grin on his face he wasn't sure he could wipe off. That was until the Showcase, of course.

Abigail had dragged him to the Freakshow, pleading look in her eyes. Harley was never one to buy into most circus freakshows, knowing that the majority of it was all makeup and prosthetics and just for entertainment, but between Abby's begging and his curiosity, the two of them had used the last of their money to get in. They took a seat in the dark, quickly filling, audience, and they waited for the show to start.

Abby was happily munching on popcorn as Harley cracked jokes into her ear when a bright spotlight cut through the dimmed lighted tent.

This was the second time Harley had seen the circus' ringmaster, Quentin Beck. Nothing about his appearance had changed, even though it had been literal hours since he had witnessed the man be the ringmaster in the main show, shouting commands to lions and tigers to jump through hoops of fire and dive down into pools of water.

His hair was still slicked back flawlessly, his unorthodox gold tail coat following every move his emerald slacked legs made. He still held his cane proudly, that same weird clear spherical topper filled with green billowy smoke on the top as a wide grin displayed pearly white teeth.

Harley hadn't thought there was anything suspicious about him at first. He seemed like a decent ringmaster, the only thing feeling off was the contrast of his outfit to the bright theme of reds, yellows, and oranges around the rest of the circus grounds.

But Harley couldn't help but to notice his grin seemed wider, his tone more enthusiastic as he spoke.

"Welcome to the Freakshow," he had announced with a small bow as the audience erupted into applause.

Harley and begun to wonder how he could still be so passionate about a show he had probably put on at least five times before throughout the day. His only conclusion was that this was the Freakshow most popular attraction, the show that kept people coming back again and again.

Beck had sauntered off to the side and the show began, nothing special.

Harley witnessed exactly what he imagined he would. 'The tallest man in the world' was just someone walking around the stadium on stilts. Very well, he might add. But he caught the way his pants shifted up too high and exposed the wooden poles underneath.

'The oldest person in the world' could have been convincing if Harley didn't know it couldn't have been possible. Beck boasted the woman was 180 years old, but Harley hypothesized she was 70 at most in the way she moved.

There were multiple others, some more convincing than others, and some that might have actually been true, like 'The Giantess' and 'The Elephant Man'.

Harley was there and having a good time like he was meant too. He was having a laugh, not at the people, but at Beck and the lengths he went to to make it look like these people were what he was selling them as. He was enjoying silently pointing out the inconsistencies and spotting the tells of the "Freaks", occasionally glancing at his sister and feeling glad that she was enjoying herself as well. Not nearly in the same way he was, but enjoying herself nonetheless.

It wasn't until the final Freak that Harley's entire mood had changed.

"For the final act of tonight, I would like to introduce: The Human Spider!" Beck announced into his microphone.

Forward rolled a large clear glass container. At first, Harley couldn't get a good look at the person inside, but as the spotlight focused on the person, his eyes widened.

Sitting in the corner of the see-through cage was a dark figure. Not sitting, curled up in a ball. He was wearing only pair of black shorts, the rest of his skin exposed.

But it wasn't skin. From where Harley was sitting, he saw what looked like brown fur or hair. As the light focused on the person in the corner, Harley could see that hair instantly stand up, like without looking, he had sensed the attention on him.

The figure didn't move from his spot, his face still tucked in between his legs as he held himself tight in the curled position. Squinting his eyes to get a better look, Harley could swear he saw him visably shaking.

"The Human Spider is one of our _newer_ additions." Beck began to commentate, rapping loudly on the glass and making the person jump.

Harley watched as slowly, the boy began to look up. He felt like someone had stolen the air from his lungs as his eyes fell on his face. He didn't know where the Spider part of his title came in, because from the first look Harley would have said Wolf Man, but as he looked up, Harley understood.

The first thing Harley noticed were the fangs protruding from his cheekbones and ending by the ends of his mouth, a transition of flesh and fur to deadly points.

They looked so real, moving as he moved. Harley's gaze trailed up. Two fully black eyes were situated on the hallows of his cheeks. As were four identical ones situated slanted evenly across his forehead. They stay unblinking, but Harley couldn't shake the feeling that they were the realest thing he had seen that night.

But the most disturbing part of him wasn't his spider fur, his spider pincers, or even his spider eyes. It was his regular ones.

A deep rich chocolate color, completing the array of the sepia tones his body already was, spare the warm tan of what skin could be seen. They were human eyes; so young and so beautiful. So frightened. So pained. So tortured.

For a moment, as the boys eyes swept over the crowd, they met Harley's. For that moment, he felt petrified. He had never seen such terror in a person's eyes before, and it felt like it was reflecting onto him.

The crowd was also silent, the most so they've been the entire time. Harley could tell that this freak wasn't like the others. Nothing about this boy was fun or amusing. Harley could tell by the way he moved, the way he looked, that he was being forced to be in the show.

"The Human Spider used to be fully human," Beck's voice echoed in Harley's ears, but he couldn't bring himself to look at the man who spoke with such ease. "He was once an assistant to an esteemed bio-chemist, when one day, an experiment excaped. Poor Peter here had fallen victim to the bite of an biologically and radioactivlly engineered spider. He changed, mutated, spider DNA becoming his own!"

Harley watched in horror, feeling sick to his stomach, as Beck hit the glass with his cane, making the boy, Peter, flinch and jump again. At the command, he began to stand up.

He shut his brown eyes tight, but Harley had the feeling he could still see out of the others, his expression pained as he pressed the pads of his fingers against the glass.

Harley knew Abby could feel it too, the shift in the moods, turning from playful to horrible. She inched closer until her hair grazed his side, and he wrapped an arm around her, trying to bring her comfort and to find some himself.

He felt sick as Peter began to climb, his hands and feet sticking to the glass. Harley found the strength to tear his eyes away. Away from Peter, away from the grin on Quentin Beck's face.

He gulped down his lunch threatening to come back up. Not because of Peter, no. But because of the people around him. They watched, not in horror, but in interest as Peter, _the_ _Human Spider_ , clung to the surface of the glass, crawling along the walls and even the ceiling of the cage.

They looked at his as he was suppose to be: a Freak. They oohed and ahhed and marveled at the sight. They treated him as a show because that's what he was to them.

Harley couldn't understand how they couldn't see Peter for who he really was: a person. A human, like they all were. He wasn't a trick or a scheme. He truly had the powers and appearance of a human-spider hybrid, but he didn't want to be there.

He couldn't figure out how they couldn't see the fear in every move he made, the reluctance. Peter was just a boy like him. He was a boy there against his will, visably abused and manipulated and put on display all for Beck to make money.

When the show ended, Harley and Abby sat unmoving; not clapping and not cheering. He could tell by the way she was shaking that she was crying and Harley held her tighter. She had seen it too.

"We have to do something," Abby sobbed after Harley had brought her out in his arms. "He can't stay here."

Harley agreed with her. Whatever Beck had done to Peter couldn't have been legal. Harley promised, he swore to his sister that he would help him. Because every time he blinked, behind his eyelids he saw the moment him and Peter locked eyes. The pure fear that laced them.

Harley knew the world could be cruel, but it wasn't until that moment that he realized just how so.

Harley went back that later that night. The circus was deserted, the rides were powered down and cast dark foreboding shadows in the moonlight.

He had one task on his mind, and only one. He knew what it was liked to get bullied, to get pushed around. He thought it had been bad for him, never thinking he would meet someone who had it worse.

Harley stayed in the shadows, ensuring that if there were still performers around, he wouldn't be spotted.

He made his way to the back of the circus, where visitors weren't permitted, where the people of the circus lived until they packed up and moved somewhere else.

He moved quickly as he peeked into tents. There was light and laughter from inside most, so he had to be careful. Soon enough, only two tents remained.

Harley crept along the side, finding the opening of the tent. There was light, but no sound. His fingers pressed against the tarp and gently pushed enough for him to see inside.

There sat Quentin Beck, his back to the door, counting money from a register and pocketing bills. Harley felt a surge of anger begging to burst forward, but he kept it down. He wanted to attack him while his back was turned, but he thought about what kind of person that would make him.

He steeled on, Peter having to be in the final tent. There was barely any light, a small lamp glowing dimly, flickering in the corner. It cast only enough light to see shapes in the small space. Harley knew he had to move fast, and he slipped in without thinking.

Peter was just as he had first seen him, curled up with his head between his legs, arms holding them close to his body. He now had a shirt on, but it was loose and ill fitting. Harley saw a plate of food a couple of feet away, but it lay untouched. It didn't look appetizing.

Harley stepped forward and froze when a twig snapped under his foot. He watched as Peter's hair stood on end again, his head shooting up and wild eyes turning to the entrance of the tent.

Immediately, the boy scrambled back, a soft protest leaving his lips. A chain clinked as Peter backed himself up against the back wall, putting as much space as he could between himself and the entrance, chest rising and falling with hyperventilating breaths. Harley realized he was bound to the middle post. He couldn't leave even if he wanted too.

Harley couldn't speak, Peter's fear paralyzing him again. He could almost feel it coming off of Peter in waves, making his stomach churn again from hatred and disgust towards Beck. How could a person possibly instill this much fear, hurt someone so much?

Harley quickly held out his hands to show Peter he was unarmed. "I'm not going to hurt you," he spoke softly, his voice slightly catching. "Please. My name is Harley, I'm here to get you out."

"W-what?" Peter's voice was rough and reasons why raced through Harley's brain. Dehydration. Raw from screaming. Both.

"You shouldn't be here. I can't believe you're here. I could see it when I was here earlier, he hurts you, doesn't he? Beck?" Harley shook his head, swallowing what felt like a rock in his throat. "Me and my sister saw it. We were horrified when we saw you on display like that, forced to exploit yourself like that. I promised her—I promised _myself_ that I would get you out of here."

Peter stayed silent and Harley tried again. "Come with me," he coaxed. He pleaded.

"You saw what I can do." Peter said quietly, not moving from where he pressed himself into a small ball. "You saw how revolting I am. I belong here—"

"No you don't!" Harley instantly regretted cutting him off abruptly like that when he saw Peter flinch, his fangs flaring, and his human eyes glossing over. "Oh God, I'm so sorry," He immediately apologized. "I didn't know—I won't hurt you, I _swear_. Peter, you're human. You deserve to be free, to have a home. This...here...this isn't a home. You don't belong here. You don't deserve what Beck's doing to you."

Harley could tell Peter was trying to decide to believe him or not. He couldn't blame him. Beck had probably put in a good amount of time lowering his self worth so Peter would be susceptible to anything he fed him. Harley wouldn't doubt if Peter couldn't even trust himself.

"We can get out of here. You and me. My sister already told my mom what I'm doing, she agreed to help you. We can _help_ you." Harley took a cautious step forward, testing to see whether Peter would want him closer. When he didn't react, he dropped down to his knees, now four feet away from him.

"Do you know where the key is?"

Peter's gaze drifted to the shackle around his ankle. The next words to leave his mouth feeling like a stab to Harley's gut.

"He said if I leave, he'll hurt my aunt."

Harley could feel his heart picking up it's pace. There were variables adding themselves to the equation, and he didn't have time to solve them all.

"We'll get her. In the morning, after we get out of here, it'll be the first thing we do. Please, Peter." Harley's eyes were beginning to fill with tears.

"I'm not worth it," Peter whispered, looking down at his hands. Harley saw small bumps on his wrists, and another look and he noticed they were spider spinneretes. Right before he realized Peter had said that less to him and more to himself.

"Look at me." Harley's voice was firm but not demanding. "You are worth it. Any life is worth it. I promise you right now, we'll get you out of here. Then we'll go get your aunt. We'll bring Beck to court, and he'll spend the rest of his life in prison for breaking child labor laws and probably a million others. But what we need to focus on right now is finding the key and setting you free, okay?"

It took a minute, but Peter nodded his head slowly, every one of his eyes trained on Harley's face.

"Okay." He repeated softly.

"Great." Harley smiled and nodded his head as well. "Where's the key Peter?"

"You um—I—we don't need it." Harley watched as Peter reached toward his ankle with a trembling hand. He wrapped his fingers around the metal and squeezed tightly until the shackle broke clean off with a crunch. "I-I tr-tried to run before. That's when he...when he..."

"Don't think about it." Harley quickly suggested before outstretching his hand. "We need to run. Take my hand."

Peter was deciding again. Harley didn't know how long he had to live like this, but it was long enough for every decision to take careful thought. He wouldn't argue that Peter was weighing his every option right now, trying to debate whether he should truly trust Harley no matter how it seemed. He had been so twisted, treated in all the wrong ways, so much that he acted on fear. Thought of the worst before the what could be's. Thought of the punishment before the freedoms.

Harley waited patiently. He was debating himself, whether he should let up. He didn't want Peter to think he was being forced to come with him, he had enough of that. He wanted Peter to make his own decison. He thought about receding his hand, but then shut away the thought because he was afraid Peter might take it as a sign to show Harley wasn't telling the truth.

He came to the compromise to count another sixty seconds. Just when he was in the final ten, Peter accepted his hand.

Harley smiled again, and together, the both of them ran to where Harley had parked his mother's car down the street.

They got in, Peter sitting in the passenger seat next to him. Harley put the keys in the ignition, started the engine, and the both of them sped away from Beck's Wondrous Circus, leaving it in the dust.


End file.
